Stay on the Line
by Abel Quartz
Summary: Steven calls Connie up in the middle of the night with recurring, anxious images flooding his mind. Despite her caution, Connie is determined to help in any way she can. Happy Bubble Buddies anniversary, everyone!


"Slow down!" Connie hissed. "Tell me what's happening, Steven."

The sobs coming through her cell phone were too loud, threatening to wake up her parents down the hall. She poked buttons until the voice was silent, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. The clock read 12:34, and the autumn streets were as dark as they ever were, lit be the hazy orange of dying streetlamps.

Finally, a sniffle, and then she heard Steven's voice from the other end softly. There was nobody for him to wake, but the boy spoke in hushed tones regardless.

"I-I had this dream," Connie heard him say, "that w-we were together, and it was on the platform and we were fused and Stevonnie fell then we split and we were falling, just falling and I let go of you, I…oh no, I let go, and…Connie, I'm so sorry!"

Images of mountains and plains below turned Connie's stomach, and she could only imagine how Steven felt with the pain still boiling inside of him. It had never truly left, had it.

"Steven – just breathe, okay? Take a moment and – "

Another stifled retch made her pull the phone away from her ear. Clearly there wasn't much that the girl could do from this end. The sounds were horrible, pain distorted by the microphone. Conversations like this weren't going anywhere, but the only other solution made her equally queasy. Still, for Steven, sacrifices could be made.

"Steven. Are you still with me?"

There was a muted snort of agreement. He was probably nodding.

"Hold on."

Her watch read 12:40 as she closed the door, wrapped in a heavy jacket over a sweatshirt and sweatpants. No floorboards creaked, no cars passed, and no hinges sighed as she made her way down the stairs and out the front door. Pulling her cell phone back out of her shirt, Connie locked the door behind her and raised it to her ear.

"OK. Steven, I'm outside, and I'm coming."

"Coming…over? N-now?"

There was the distinct and unmistakable sound of a nose being dragged across a sleeve.

"Yes." Connie paused. "Meet me on the beach. Can you bring a flashlight?"

"Uh-huh."

Connie didn't want to hang up, but she was sorely tempted, if only because her knuckles were already starting to whiten in the cold air. Yellowing newspapers blew past her in a sudden gust, making her pull her hood over her numbing ears with a shudder. The night was as desolate as the howls that ran between the dark houses. Sometimes as she walked, with Steven's heavy breathing in her ear, she saw a television or a digital clock shining through a stranger's window. They were all neighbors, but all strangers, even the ones who came with her to the bus stop, even the ones she had known all her life. She kept walking.

"Steven? I need to hang up now and keep walking. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Another sound. She flipped her phone shut and hoped that he was still there, still waiting. As soon as she turned the corner with her house out of sight, Connie ran.

The beach was closer than she thought, or perhaps it was farther than it had ever been. Connie couldn't look at her clock at a time like this. Adrenaline and exhaustion had flooded her mind, and the directive of finding Steven was her one priority. Was he safe?

But Steven was a Crystal Gem. Of course he was safe.

Connie's eyelids felt weighted with lead by the time the sand crunched under her sneakers. The wind was oppressive, but the sky and the stars were clear upon the earth, the horizon filled to the brim with a bruised and disfigured purple, a rising sun not yet born.

He was there, under the cliff face, slumped against the rocks with his phone on his belly. If it wasn't for the momentary sobs, Connie would have sworn Steven was asleep. The child's head jerked up and his hands dug into the sand with a whimper as she came close. He relaxed instantly with her kneeling, sitting with him against the shale.

Silence and breaking waves brushed their aching minds while they sat and let their bodies talk to each other. Steven was always so warm, like a sunbathing cat, his skin glowing with health. Connie's tight fingers rubbed over the back of his neck and shoulders. She hadn't really realized that she had moved her arm until she felt Steven's head against her body.

"I hate being a Gem."

Connie tried not to stiffen.

"Why?"

Steven tilted his head to look upwards, pointing towards the cliff's upper boundary. Connie followed his gaze into the dark, the edgeless shadow looming over them.

"Do you remember?" Steven whispered. "You were reading here, and I was on my bike, and then that giant monster made the rocks fall down and my shield protected you?"

Of course she remembered.

"It keeps playing, just this thought that…that you could've died. And I know it's terrible and awful and I don't want to think about it ever! But sometimes, when I think about…when I think about how life is just so… It's like I can't think about you without worrying that you're okay. And that if I do something wrong, if anything ever happens, then…"

Connie pressed her fingertips into his skin, releasing some tension of her own. Mortality wasn't the most common thing that woke her up in the morning.

"Steven, what does this have to do with being a Gem?"

"Because…"

He sighed, wiping his face on his pajama sleeve, letting the tears stiffen the fabric. The boy's feet were bare, his clothing thin. Connie couldn't imagine how cold he was. She pulled him closer and pressed their legs together, moving her arm to hug him tight.

"Because humans don't worry about these things, not like Gems have to. Dying just happens, and humans accept it, and it's scary, but it's just something that's part of life. And for Gems, it's not part of life."

Steven's throat choked up, and the hot tears started to come down as he gripped Connie as tightly as she could bear.

"A-and I don't want to have to see you die ever. What if I can't die? What if I have to watch you, and then you're – y…you – you're gone forever and I can't do anything –"

Connie was frozen as he let out a sound she could only describe as condensed pain, a lifetime of torment and regret that had not yet been. It was the sound of the inevitable. Steven released himself only to hug Connie, pulling her almost on top of him as he collapsed against the stone wall in sobs. She gritted her teeth, but the tears came for her as well, hot and shameful against her knight.

But he was wrong.

"No, Steven," she murmured, swallowing to measure her words, "you're not a Gem, and you may not be human, but you can do so much! Life isn't about death, Steven, you know that!"

He shook his head against her, but she pulled on his hair, tugging him backwards with a sharp cry of pain, his eyes wide and terrified. Connie could barely see Steven through the haze of lucidity and crying, but she would always know his face.

"There will always be a part of me that's with you. We don't know a thing about the future, Steven, we can't know! Even if we had Garnet's sight, then we could only know possibilities. Don't we already know that? When you call, don't you know that I'll always answer you?"

Her grip relaxed as his face softened into confusion. One more swallow, one more clearing of the head before she could speak.

"Life is full of inevitability, but that's not destiny! We make choices every day, choices that rely on things we already know. You know that I'm here, you know that we're going to be here for each other, and for as long as either of us are alive, we know – we know that – "

And Connie was too shut down with a sob, an unplanned reaction to the welling emotion inside of her. Just as she had shut down, Steven's clarity emerged, and though he was not yet stable he sniffled and brought himself back up until they were face-to-face.

"That I love you."

She looked up in shock. But he was smiling suddenly. It was small, it was weak, but it was a smile for certain. Had she misheard? They were too close for even the splintering wind to break apart the words that came out now. There now, the more she looked – it was not a smile, but the face of pure understanding. As much as he was able, Steven understood with all his soul. The love that had always been there was breaking through the shell of agony, emerging light the sun from its cage.

"You…I l… Steven, I do, I do too, and…"

It was so much harder to say now that her mind had exhausted itself. Steven was equally tired, and he held Connie's arms to keep her upright as they leaned against each other one more time. His forehead pressed against hers, their eyes closed, sand seeping into their skin and freezing them to the bone.

Pinkness appeared everywhere, a soft glow from underneath Steven's pajamas cascading around them. Connie covered her eyes from the light, but it only took a moment before the softness made the ache recede. The sand was pushed underneath the children as they meditated in unspoken notes, sighing their songs together in a gentle chord.

 _I'm here._

 _I'm here._


End file.
